Bronze, Chequered Flags, and One Very Well-Earned Nap

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoSunny again, which by now feels less like weather and more like a running joke the sky's decided to commit to. England's win over France in the third-place match was already safely banked news by the time I properly surfaced — six-four, apparently, in a game that by all accounts had no business being that dramatic given the stakes were essentially pride and a medal nobody particularly wanted a month ago. Funny how bronze becomes strangely precious once silver's off the table.

Early rounds done, I headed out to Bamboo Hill for the first time — a colleague's son getting married, and one of those venues you hear mentioned in passing for years before finally seeing it for yourself. Worth the wait. Green in every direction, the kind of setting that does half the decorating work before anyone's lifted a finger, and the ceremony itself had that particular warmth you get when it's clearly less about spectacle and more about everyone in the room genuinely liking the two people getting married. No pretence to it. Just a proper, lovely afternoon.

From there, onward to Pavilion, ostensibly just passing through, which is always how the more expensive detours begin. Wandered past the Mercedes store and came out the other side having bought their F1 shirt — Petronas green, unmistakably so, the kind of purchase that requires no real justification beyond simply wanting it. Anita will no doubt have opinions about the wardrobe expansion. I've prepared no defence.

Home in the afternoon with the Belgian Grand Prix on, Spa doing what Spa does best — that long, unpredictable lap where the weather changes its mind more often than some people change their socks. I settled in properly for it, fully intending to watch the whole thing with appropriate attention, and instead managed roughly the first stint before the sofa quietly won. Woke up somewhere past halfway, slightly disoriented, scrambling to piece together who'd actually done what through Eau Rouge while I was elsewhere.

In fairness, the nap wasn't entirely an accident. There's a World Cup final still to come tonight — Argentina and Spain, Messi against Yamal, the kind of match that doesn't reward being half-asleep by full time. So the unplanned doze through the Grand Prix has, in a roundabout way, done its job: eyes are clearer now, the shirt's hung up rather sensibly, and there's a proper evening of football still ahead. A day that started with a wedding and somewhere along the way picked up a race, a bit of shopping, and an accidental rest — not bad going, all told, before the real business of the evening even begins.

A Saturday That Nearly Missed Its Own Invitation

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoSunny again to start, the sort of morning that makes you briefly optimistic about the day's plans before the day itself has had any say in the matter. Mine had rather firm opinions early on — the ward round, usually a known quantity, decided today to stretch itself out well past its expected finish, one thing leading into another in the way these things do, until the neat window I'd left myself for the wedding had quietly closed without asking permission.

Anita's friend was getting married, and I'd been down as her plus-one for the day, which is a role I generally enjoy — good food, a bit of dancing I'm not especially good at, the pleasant sensation of being somewhere celebratory without any of the organisational responsibility. Instead, I found myself still occupied while the ceremony's clock ticked on without me, which is the sort of disappointment that doesn't shout, just settles quietly into the back of the morning.

Fortunately, Anita isn't one to be stranded by my scheduling failures — she'd already lined up another friend to go with in case exactly this happened, which either speaks well of her foresight or poorly of my reliability, possibly both in equal measure. Either way, she wasn't left standing about, and there's a particular relief in discovering your absence hasn't actually derailed anyone's day but your own.

With the morning's plans rerouted, lunch became the more modest ambition, and Mid Valley obliged well enough — busy in the way it always is on a weekend, but comfortably so, the kind of crowd that moves rather than clogs. A decent plate, a bit of people-watching, the sort of unhurried meal that makes up in calm what the morning lacked in it.

Then the sky, apparently taking notes on my day's theme of things not going quite to schedule, opened up with genuine commitment. Proper heavy rain, the kind that turns pavements into rivers and sends everyone under the nearest awning to wait it out, phones out, faces resigned. It eased, eventually, with good enough timing to let the evening's real plan survive intact — the pasar malam, stalls lit up and steaming despite the ground still drying beneath them, that familiar mix of grilled everything and fruit stacked in careful pyramids.

Dinner sorted itself out from there without much fuss, one of those evenings where the food arrives more as a formality than an event, welcome all the same after a day that had asked more patience of me than expected.

Now, finally, a bit of downtime — nothing ambitious, just the simple business of sitting still and letting a Saturday that started late and ran long come to its proper close. Missed weddings and morning delays aside, there's something to be said for a weekend that eventually finds its rhythm, even if it takes the scenic route to get there.

Rain on the Way to a Wedding

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoThe weekend came into view at last, and with it a morning that started smoothly — no early alarms of the urgent kind, just the gentle beginning a Saturday ought to have. There were rounds to do, of course; the ward doesn't observe weekends, and there's something almost meditative about the quieter weekend version of it, the corridors calmer, the pace more forgiving. I worked through it without event and emerged into the rest of the day feeling I'd earned it.

I caught up with the football, naturally — that ongoing ritual of reassembling the night's results, the World Cup still unspooling across distant time zones while we sleep. By now I've stopped fighting the rhythm of it. I take my football secondhand and slightly stale, and I've come to find a certain charm in arriving at the drama after everyone else has gone home.

Then out to Kota Damansara for physio, that standing appointment my right shoulder and I have reluctantly entered into. The session does its work — somewhere between massage and mild interrogation — and I leave each time feeling marginally improved and considerably more aware of muscles I'd rather not have been introduced to. Progress, they assure me. I take their word for it.

A quick bite afterwards, grabbed in the gap, and then the heavens opened. Properly opened — the sort of tropical downpour that turns car parks into rivers and reduces every driver to a crawl, wipers labouring, visibility down to the next set of brake lights. There's a particular resignation that settles over the Klang Valley when the rain arrives like that: everyone simply slows, accepts the delay, and waits for the sky to finish its business.

The evening's main event was a wedding dinner — the son of one of Anita's old friends from her UiTM days, held out at Le Meridien Putrajaya. There's a lovely continuity to these occasions, watching the children of long friendships arrive at their own milestones, the parents now seated in the role their own parents once held. Anita moved easily through the reunions, that warm rediscovery of faces not seen in years, while I did my contented part — eating well, nodding along, enjoying the gentle theatre of a Malaysian wedding dinner in full swing.

The drive out to Putrajaya in the wet had its own slow patience to it, but the destination was worth the journey: those broad ceremonial avenues looking rather grand under the rain, the hotel warm and bright against the weather. It was the kind of evening that asks little of you beyond presence and appetite, both of which I supplied generously.

We finished well after half ten, which by my current standards counts as a genuinely late night. The drive home was quiet, the rain finally easing, the day's long arc settling at last into tiredness. A full Saturday — rounds, physio, a downpour, and a wedding — and a good one. I went home damp, well-fed, and ready for sleep.

A Quick Trip to Penang

Traditionally, I would make a trip up to Penang each year before Ramadhan. To visit relatives or at least sample the food. This year I had another excuse, as one of my cousins was getting married.

We only stayed one night, with only Anita and I travelling. We stayed in Seberang Perai where the wedding was held. I only left KL after work, managing to reach the hotel before 10 pm.

I had a relaxing evening, enjoying a long breakfast the next morning as the wedding started only at noon. My Mum, sister and Aunt came to join us at the wedding hall soon after as they were staying in Sungai Petani and travelled separately.

My Mum coming with my brother-in-lawThe pelaminBunga telurThe wedding was nice and I got to meat plenty of my relatives. The topic of conversation was definitely politics. In fact, one of the local candidate turned up as he was a friend of my Uncle. After lunch and the bersanding, we decided to cross to Penang for some laksa and “sotong kangkung”.

Traffic was surprisingly light. Enjoued the food, brought some for my mother-in-law in KL as we would be leaving straight from Penang. We stayed at Padang Kota for the food, before setting of, reaching KL at around 9 pm.

One of my AuntExchanging contactsThe happy coupleWe decided to take the small Perodua instead as the MPV’s battery went dead before we left. The car was surprisingly light and relaxing to drive and despite taking our time and making a few stops, we still got back to KL in plenty of time.

We planned to spend Hari Raya in Penang, so staying just a single night was not a big deal. We got to meet everybody at the wedding anyway.

Sunday Wedding

It was more of a reunion of sort with Idlan's former classmates from kindergarten attending a wedding of one of his friend's brother. Being held at Dewan Perdana Felda, it was a place all of us were familiar with. And being a Sunday, I was actually able to make it on time .... Amazing!

Idlan meeting his buddiesGreat food and company although I was still feeling rough recovering from the bug. It was a colourful event and one of Idlan's buddies actually followed us home afterwards ...